Lily of Love Lane Read online

  Hattie shrugged. ‘Well, I can’t stand out here all night. Me feet are freezing. And Mum will wonder what’s happened to me. Do you want to come in for a cuppa?’

  As Hattie lived right next door, they were always in each other’s houses. Lily hesitated. ‘I’d like to but I’d better go in to my own disaster.’

  ‘Pistols at dawn, is it?’ Hattie giggled, knowing that Lily often went home to a drama.

  ‘No blood has been drawn, thank goodness.’

  ‘See you tomorrow, then.’

  Lily caught her arm. ‘Talking of tomorrow, it might be our last Saturday for a while.’

  ‘Why’s that?’

  ‘I might have to work Saturday afternoons. Dad’s out of work again.’

  ‘When will we meet then?’ Hattie’s father had a regular job as a clerk. She only gave half of her wage to her mum, whereas Lily gave nearly all of hers.

  ‘We’ve still got Sunday.’

  ‘I have to help Mum with the dinner then. And if they go out for a walk I have to sit with Sylvester.’ Sylvester was Hattie’s older brother. He’d been gassed in France during the war and suffered violent fits. Although he was older than Hattie by eleven years, Mrs Parks didn’t like to leave him on his own for very long.

  ‘Well, I can sit with you, can’t I?’

  ‘It’s not like going out though, is it?’ Hattie looked despondent.

  ‘Cheer up, it’s not the end of the world.’

  Hattie began to walk away, then turned quickly and called out loudly, ‘Sweet dreams of Charles Grey!’

  The two girls parted laughing. Lily was relieved that Hattie wasn’t upset about Saturdays. She was inclined to be a little spoilt, as she’d come along late in life to her parents. They had had another baby boy after Sylvester, but he had died at birth. The doctor told Mrs Parks her chances of having more children were slim so they had been overjoyed when Hattie had arrived.

  Inside Lily’s house, all was quiet. She walked slowly down the hall waiting for an eruption, but was relieved to hear laughter. As she took off her hat and coat and hung it on the stand, her thoughts returned to Charles Grey. It was the first time that a man had ever made her feel like this, excited and nervous at the same time. He was much older than her, it was true, but there was something in his gaze that had captured her. As though they had been the only two people in the whole of the market place.

  This was something she couldn’t really tell Hattie. Not until she knew Charles Grey a little better. If she ever got to know him better! And that depended on Ben.

  Ben James was standing at his bedroom window looking down on the two figures below. The mist had cleared a little and he could just identify Lily and Hattie. Ben lifted the sash, on the point of calling out. He intended to crack a joke, as usual. But then he heard Hattie shouting something and it was about Charles Grey.

  He stepped back quickly. What had Lily been telling Hattie about that smarmy bloke who bought the aspidistra? He was the proverbial wolf in sheep’s clothing, no doubt about it. Ben had met a few like him in his time, gents that put on the style, but it wasn’t an honest style. Gut instinct told Ben that Lily had swallowed the bait with those long looks and posh accent. But what could he do? He’d only acted like the jealous lover himself.

  The two figures disappeared. All he could see now was the beginnings of a good old pea-souper, masking even the lamplight. He pulled the window down, replaced the lace and drew the faded chintz curtains. As he turned back into the room he caught his brother’s gaze.

  Reube was stretched out on the bed, his back propped by pillows. His right trouser leg was rolled up and a cold compress covered his swollen ankle. A minute or two ago, Ben had helped him up the stairs. They’d had a good laugh about Reube’s accident, despite his complaints and grumblings.

  ‘What am I missing?’ Reube lowered the newspaper he had been reading.

  ‘Nothing much,’ Ben shrugged. The two brothers had shared the large, airy bedroom since childhood. In recent years either one could have moved upstairs to the top of the house, where years of unwanted or outgrown household effects were stored, but the attic room was so small that a person could only stand upright in the middle. Even squashing in a single bed, took up most of the space. But even if the room had been large, neither Ben nor his brother would have wanted it. They enjoyed one another’s company, traded insults regularly and did a good deal of business talk before going to sleep.

  ‘You was having a good look for seeing nothing,’ Reube observed dryly.

  Ben sat down on the single bed next to his brother’s. He removed the studs from his collar and the cufflinks from his shirtsleeves. It was his golden rule to look smart at all times, irrespective of whether he drove his lorry or helped on the stall. Reube favoured a working jacket, durable trousers and cap, their differing styles giving rise to a good deal of harmless banter.

  ‘It was Lily and Hattie,’ Ben said casually. ‘They were gassing as usual.’

  Reube smiled. ‘About me accident no doubt.’

  ‘No, not about that.’

  ‘What then?’

  ‘I heard Hattie call something about this la-de-dah fella who bought the pot today. Remember? The one I told you about with the broken handle that I bought from the old girl up Manilla Street.’

  ‘What was she saying?’

  ‘I only heard his name.’

  ‘So Lil was a bit taken with him, was she?’

  ‘I didn’t say that,’ Ben frowned up as he wrestled with his collar.

  ‘You said she wanted to go to his house with you. That’s the same thing, ain’t it?’

  ‘I wish I hadn’t mentioned it now.’

  Reube sighed loudly. ‘Do you realize you get the hump when anyone tries to get off with her.’

  ‘I never do!’ Ben slipped off his suit jacket and cast it aside.

  ‘See? You’ve got the hump now.’

  ‘No, I haven’t.’

  ‘You never chuck your stuff about like that. You always put your jacket straight on a hanger and hang it in the wardrobe. Drive me nuts you do, being so fussy.’

  After dragging a woollen jumper over his head, Ben threw a pillow at his brother. ‘Don’t think you can insult me just because you’re at a disadvantage.’

  ‘Only me body is, me mind is firing on more cylinders than a number fifty-six bus. Can’t help it if I’m the brains of this outfit.’

  ‘You’d better shut up or I’ll twist your toes,’ Ben was quick to respond, attempting to deflect the interrogation about Lily. He did his best to act the local Romeo and this fooled most people who thought of him as the island’s likely lad. But Reube knew him well and it was difficult to keep his intimate thoughts and feelings private. He had always told himself he believed in safety in numbers and if he wanted to build up his transport business, as a single man he was free of responsibility. Lily was his friend and she could take a joke; insulting one another was a way of life. It was how East Enders managed the ups and downs of everyday life. And there had been plenty of those whilst growing up on the island. Their six-year age gap meant he had spent most of his teenage years kicking a ball around with her. She was like his kid sister, his partner in grime as they used to say. He felt protective of her, but no more than he did for Hattie. They always teased him about being a Romeo. They knew he had no intention of settling down, not until he’d made his fortune. Which was coming by way of a classy looking charabanc he had seen for sale up Aldgate. He could fit thirty passengers in at a time. The perfect vehicle for club outings, weddings and the occasional funeral if they didn’t mind the colour beige.

  ‘It’s a wonder there ain’t a string of blokes outside her door,’ his brother was saying.

  Ben frowned, tuning back into the present. ‘Whose door?’

  ‘Lily’s, of course.’

  ‘She’s only a kid.’

  ‘In case you ain’t noticed, Valentino, she’s all grown up now.’

  ‘What are you talking about, you daft
prune?’

  ‘I’m talking about the girl who is right under your nose, yet you don’t seem to see her. There’s all manner of women out there that you flirt with and right old boilers some of them. But Lily is in a class of her own. She’s got manners and good taste, which is probably why she can’t see you, either.’

  ‘Here, watch it, matey! I’ve got taste and I know me p’s and q’s. Anyway, I don’t think of Lil like that. She’s like me little skin and blister, sort of.’

  Reube smiled knowingly. ‘You take my advice and put a ring on her finger.’

  ‘Aw, shut that big gob of yours and concentrate on your paper. Ignorant blokes like you need to learn a bit about what’s going on in the world.’

  ‘I know enough,’ Reube sniffed. ‘More than you think.’

  ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

  ‘You can’t fool me, Ben James. You’re—’ Reube went to sit up and yelled in pain. ‘Bloody Norah, me foot!’

  ‘I thought it was your ankle.’

  ‘I tell you what, wring that rag out, bruv, and shove another wet one on it, would you? In fact, better go down and bring up a bowl of cold water.’

  ‘Yes, m’lord, anything else, your highness,’ Ben muttered, whipping off the cloth and making his brother yell out again.

  ‘That hurt!’

  ‘All right, all right. I’ll be back in a minute. Lay back and think of England.’

  Ben went downstairs where his widowed mother Betty and her old friend, Pedro Williams, had just finished a game of backgammon and were now playing gin rummy. Pedro was so called because of his little black moustache that curled up at the ends.

  In the scullery, Ben rinsed the rag under the tap. He liked Pedro who had run their dad’s stall when Ben and Reube had lost their dad in 1916 until Reube was old enough to take over.

  The water was freezing as it filled the bowl. Ben was deep in thought once more, wondering about Charles Grey and why he disliked him. He didn’t even know the man. But the more Ben thought about him, the less he found to like.

  On his way back upstairs, his mother shouted, ‘How’s the patient?’

  ‘Still clinging to life,’ Ben replied.

  ‘I heard voices outside, you know.’

  ‘The Angel Gabriel calling from heaven, I ’spect.’

  His mother appeared at the parlour door, her dark brown hair was hidden under a furry type of hat that resembled a deceased animal. She wore the hat winter and summer alike, pleating her two heavy eyebrows underneath it. ‘I pulled back the curtain,’ she told him, ‘and saw Lil and Hattie. Strikes me they was having a good old laugh about something.’

  ‘Well, even if it’s the Aga Khan come to pay her a call with five hundred of his camels and a wagonload of dates, that ain’t our business anyway.’

  His mother blinked at him through the spindles of the banister. ‘What’s up with you, son?’

  ‘Nothing.’

  ‘I was only saying, ducks. You don’t have to bite me head off.’

  Ben was immediately contrite. ‘Sorry, I’m just a bit done in, that’s all.’

  ‘Have an early night, dear. Your brother needs one too if he’s to rest that ankle.’

  He muttered something inaudible and went on his way. Now he was certain to get another quizzing from Reube who must have overheard all that. You couldn’t bloody well take a leak in this neighbourhood without someone knowing.

  As he entered the bedroom, he shouted at his brother, ‘And don’t you start or you’ll get this lot over you.’

  ‘I never breathed a word,’ Reube said innocently.

  But Ben knew what his brother was thinking, it was written all over his face.

  ‘And by the way,’ Ben said quickly, ‘Lily asked me to ask you if she could work Saturday afternoons.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Her dad’s out of work again.’

  ‘Charming, ain’t it? The bloke is only trying to do an honest day’s toil for an honest day’s pay.’

  ‘Like hundreds of others on the island,’ Ben nodded. ‘He’s even considering a skin boat.’

  Reube shuddered vigorously. ‘He’s gotta be desperate then.’

  ‘So what shall I tell her?’

  ‘If she wants the hours she can have them,’ Reube shrugged. ‘Pedro offered to come and give me a hand whilst I got me limp, but he don’t need the money like Lil.’

  ‘I’ll tell her yes then, when I see her on Sunday. If I see her on Sunday.’

  ‘Ain’t you gonna take her then?’

  ‘Don’t know, do I?’

  Reube smiled as he shook out the newspaper and raised it. ‘Don’t worry, bruv, Charlie boy will be a five-minute wonder.’

  But Ben wasn’t so sure. Lily seemed to have taken a shine to the man or she wouldn’t have asked to go with him. And he couldn’t think of any way he’d be able to stop her.

  Lily was up early on Sunday morning. She wanted to look nice today. Ben had arrived to mend the latch and was now sharing a pot of tea with her mum and dad. Lily had put on her best beige tweed coat with a dropped waistline and exchanged her blue cloche hat for a brown one with a black petersham band above the small brim. Did she look smart enough, or had she overdressed? Then she remembered how nice Hattie had looked. Every once in a while it was good to dress up. She always had to wear warm clothes for the market and her boots. Now she could put on her bar strap shoes, ones she’d had for years, and the only other pair she possessed.

  Ten minutes later, Ben was helping Lily into the lorry. He had put a sack over the seat to keep her clothes clean.

  Lily smiled as she made herself comfortable. ‘I feel like Lady Muck sitting up here.’

  He grinned. ‘You wait till you see me new motor.’

  ‘What sort is it? Another lorry?’

  ‘Not on your Nellie. It’s a charabanc.’

  ‘One of those things that are a cross between a car and a bus?’

  ‘That’s right.’

  ‘A lot of people sit in it, don’t they?’

  ‘Yeah, this one’s got thirty seats. I’m going to take out groups: women’s institutes, the girl guides, the football and billiards clubs, anyone who wants to hire me,’ he told her as he drove.

  She had to shout as the engine was noisy. ‘Will you wear a uniform?’

  He nodded. ‘A proper chauffeur’s outfit with leather boots and a flat cap.’

  ‘Where are you going to park such a big thing?’

  ‘Ernie Roper, the landlord of the Quarry says I can use his yard. He can get me a bit of business from the customers too.’

  ‘Well, don’t let them Blackshirts see it. I heard they bashed someone’s windscreen out up Hyde Park.’

  ‘Just let ’em try,’ said Ben, squeezing the horn as a horse and cart blocked the way. The cart stopped and Ben drove round it, yelling out a thank you from the open window.

  ‘Well, I wish you luck, you deserve it.’ Lily suddenly remembered that Ben was going to ask about Saturdays. ‘How is Reube’s ankle?’

  ‘Oh, on the mend.’

  ‘Did you ask him about me working on Saturday afternoons?’

  ‘Course I did and he said you’re welcome.’

  Lily sighed softly. ‘That’s a relief. I’ll start next week if that’s all right.’

  ‘Do you need any money till then?’

  Lily blushed. Ben and Reube were always generous, but she didn’t want to have to ask for help, as she had done so before Christmas. She’d paid back the small loan, but it had left her short even though she had got her wages yesterday, most of which she’d given to her mum. ‘No, that’s all right, thanks.’ She peered through the dirty windscreen and changed the subject. ‘Do you know where to go?’

  ‘Course I do. Dewar Street.’

  ‘Is the plant in the back?’

  ‘Yes, in the pot.’

  ‘It won’t slide about and break, will it?’

  ‘No, I’ve wedged it in with some bricks.’

  ‘I
hope he likes it.’ Lily felt quite nervous. She wondered what advice he would want from her. And could she give it?

  ‘Sit back and relax,’ Ben told her. ‘It’s only a broken po!’

  But to Lily it was more than that. She had butterflies in her tummy and she was very apprehensive, now that she’d come here, wondering what she’d say to Charles Grey. And what if he didn’t even remember her?

  Chapter Three

  Four Dewar Street had a tall front door and long, Georgian windows. It was the second house of a terrace that stretched behind the High Street.

  ‘I’ll knock, shall I?’ Lily hesitated as they stood outside on the white steps.

  ‘He won’t know we’re here by guesswork,’ Ben grinned.

  Lily stepped up to the big lion’s head knocker and rapped. Very soon a young girl appeared. She was dressed in a long black skirt and white apron. ‘Oh, it’s the delivery,’ she said, frowning at the plant.

  Ben nodded. ‘You’re not going to tell us to go to the tradesman’s entrance, I hope.’

  ‘No, ’cos we ain’t got one. Anyway, you’re expected. Come in.’

  Lily stepped inside with Ben. To her surprise, the house was much larger than it looked from the road. Past the big, dark hall was a staircase winding up to the next floor. A rather worn carpet led to all the rooms. There was no furniture in the hall except a large umbrella stand.

  ‘Follow me,’ said the girl, leading the way through a set of large wooden double doors. As they entered the room, Lily saw a very grand fireplace, the mantelpiece of which was the same height as her, deep green drapes hung either side of it. Sadly there was no fire alight in the big hearth, instead there stood a large oriental fan, opened to its fullest extent. Scattered around the room were upholstered armchairs. Lily recognised the material as watered silk. They had sold some last year from the stall, though they were not nearly as nice as these. Either side of the four long windows were heavy brocade curtains, complete with silk tassels.

  ‘Crikey,’ muttered Ben beside her, ‘this is a sight for sore eyes, ain’t it?’

  ‘Beautiful,’ Lily agreed, her eyes wide as she gazed around.

  ‘Mr Grey will be with you in a minute. He said make yerselves comfortable.’